


Language barrier

by Lancelot_of_the_revolution



Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, POV Alternating, Pre-Canon, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-17 00:51:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13647966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lancelot_of_the_revolution/pseuds/Lancelot_of_the_revolution
Summary: Au where the first thing your soulmate says to you is tattooed on your body.Hearth wants an escape. He wants independence. He doesn't need a normal life, just one he can stand.Blitz has always felt out of place, and things only get weirder when an unconscious elf appears on his balcony.Now their destinies are interconnected in ways they can't begin to imagine.Updates on sundays





	1. Chapter 1

Hearth traced the words written in small, thick black print across his ribcage. They terrified and excited him beyond belief.

 

¨ **hey,** **are you okay?¨**

 

There were very few reasons Hearth could imagine someone asking him that, and there was no response he could think of that he figured would end well for him.

 

Start with assuming his soulmate knows asl. That's  a lot already- nearly no elf Hearth knew of knew the language- but sure, letls start with that.

 

Hearth tried to imagine the situation. A well meaning stranger would see the fingerprint shaped bruises around Hearth's arm.

 

“hey, are you okay?”

 

How could he respond? If he told the truth, his father would certainly find out, and then where would he be? Certainly worse off than he'd been before the question was asked.

 

A kindhearted young man would see Hearth's small figure and assume him sick.

 

“hey, are you okay?”

 

How was he supposed to explain that he wasn't so thin because of illness, but because he couldn't afford to eat? How was he supposed to explain that he deserved that?

 

The idea of someone, some stranger, inserting himself into Hearth's situation was, honestly, horrifying. The risks far outweighed the slim chance of benefits. Hearth could handle himself, he had survived this long, he knew he could make it through another six years. 18 wasn't that far away. Of course, there's always going to be that pesky weregild… hearth wouldn't be able to show his face on this property after he left. Then again, he wasn't really planning to. Not even will of the gods themselves could bring him back to this house.

 

He traced the words across his ribs once more.

 

¨Hey, are you okay?¨

 

He had to admit, as long as he met his soulmate long after he left this house, he was quite interested in the idea of someone worrying about him again. It would be nice to have someone who genuinely cared.

 

Blitz´s soulmark wrapped around his upper arm in neat italics like a serpent.

 

¨ _Where am i?_ ¨

 

A confused, very short serpent.

 

He tried to imagine the situation, but it was difficult. Who could possibly not know where they were down here in nidavellir? Where else in the nine worlds could they possibly be? There were caverns in midgard, but none that blitz knew of that were set up the way his hometown was, not with shops and bars and generally a functional society. He snorted. They weren't in Midgard, and They obviously weren't in alfheim.

 

Blitzen pulled his jacket on, hiding the words. He didn't show them off like most people who had soulmarks. Soulmarks were just another connection to Freya, and he had enough of that in his life already, thank you very much. Blitz almost never let others see the words on his arm.

 

Two years later and Hearth is 14. “only four more years” he thought to himself, “only four more years until I'm leaving this damn house”

 

He's sitting on his floor, as far away from the blue skin in the center he can get, and he's thinking. He's thinking about his soulmate. He hasn't met him yet, which isn't particularly unusual- it can take decades to find your soulmate. Some people never do. Not to mention, never leaving your house certainly makes that sort of thing more difficult.

 

Still, he finds himself trying to imagine what it'd be like. Someone who loves him, unconditionally, who'd help him through this, or, better yet, take him away.

 

He shakes his head, it's not worth it to think about this. It's useless to get his hopes up. Even if, by some miracle, he got out and met someone, his father would never let that sort of thing go on. It's easier to just leave it be.

 

Inge pokes her head through the door at that moment, and Hearth motions her in with a small tilt of his head.

 

“are you okay?” she asks, And Hearth gives a small snort. Of course not. When is he ever? 

 

“do you need anything?” she tries again. She tiptoes from her place by the door to Hearth, and sits down in front of him. Always so cautious.

 

Hearth shakes his head, keeping his hands wrapped securely around his body.

 

“He shouldn't have done that” Inge says. She's trying to get him to talk, and he knows that, but he doesn't want to. He doesn't trust himself.

 

“I'm always here for you” even her gestures are cautious. Small and shaky, she's just as afraid of Hearth's dad as Hearth is.

 

Finally, he says something. “I can't stay here,” maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day soon, he's leaving.

 

Inge almost reaches out to touch the green bruise spreading across Hearth's jaw, but she stops herself. “I know”

 

A year after that and Blitz is fourteen, and he's angry. His workshop project, a chair, is due tomorrow, and for the third time in as many hours, it's fallen apart. He swears to himself, collecting the pieces and beginning to try again. His dad could help him with this, he thinks. He doesn't have his dad anymore, he doesn't even have his dad's skill. He has his mom's skill, and what great use that is. Fashion design in nidavellir is like Alf seidr in helheim. Useless.

 

He bangs his thumb with a hammer again, and swears again. And again. And again. Eventually, there's a chair in Blitz's living room that doesn't fall apart when you sit on it, but Blitz can't even feel proud. Just tired. It's late. His shift at work starts in just a few hours. Gods know his mom isn't helping out with the bills.

 

Two years after that, Hearth is seventeen. Yesterday he was telling himself “one more year”

 

Now he's telling himself, “one more minute”

 

He's got a bag with a change of clean clothes a handful of stolen cash on his back, and a sack of rune stones in his hand. It's late, and everyone in his house is asleep.

 

“I don't care where I go” he thinks to himself, he knows he's not good enough at magic to pick a destination yet, “anywhere but here”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy valentines day!

The first thing Hearth registers is the biting cold. The second thing is the rough platform against his skin. Hearth barely opens his eyes to see a figure leaning over him. The figure is saying something, but Hearth can't make it out. Lip reading is hard enough on a normal day, right now he doesn't have the focus or the capacity to even attempt. Besides, his vision is so blurry he's lucky he can even figure out the figure is moving. Hearth blacks out again.

 

“hey, are you okay?” Blitz repeats, a tad louder this time. The elf doesn't respond, and Blitz assumes he's unconscious again. He's not really sure the etiquette for finding a teenaged elf blacked out on your balcony in the middle of the night, but he knows he has to help this kid. 

 

Elves need sunlight, and by how pale this kid looks he needs it bad. Blitz drags him inside, and, unable to pick him up, lays him on the living room floor with a pillow under his head. He turns on every light in the apartment, but it's not going to do much. He needs to think, and fast. He starts pacing. “shit, shit, shit” he whispers to himself. He's totally blanking. He's not good under pressure. He's not good under pressure! But he can't let this kid die. Elves are pale, but he's practically see through. 

 

Something clicks inside Blitz’s head, and he all but sprints to his dad's old tool box. 

 

Hearth opens his eyes and it's bright. It's so bright Hearth worries for a moment that he's back in the front yard of his father's property before he remembers the figure. He takes a moment to calm himself and realizes he's in a sun bed, like the ones in hospitals back home. He opens the lid to find an unfamiliar but cozily decorated room. A young man around Hearth's age was sitting at a dining room table in the next room. 

 

The stranger makes his way to Hearth, wringing his hands. He looks as nervous as Inge. Hearth vaguely wonders what could possibly be so threatening about a half dead elf. He tries to sit up, but he can't support himself. 

 

“where am I?” Hearth asks with shaky hands

 

The stranger gives him a blank expression proving his lack of understanding, and then places a hand on his shoulder that Hearth would jump away from if he had the energy. 

 

“don't try to move too much, you might be injured”

 

Hearth frowned a little. Judging by the strangers size and the scrapes on his hands and cheek, he was dragged from outside where he landed into this room, so Hearth figured this guy didn't have much room telling him not to move too much. He tried again, this time with a simpler sign. He said “deaf”, tracing a line from his ear to his mouth, hoping the sign was obvious enough that the stranger would understand. He repeated himself until the young man's face lit up with recognition. Finally. 

 

Once he realized, the stranger made little flitting motions with his hands, like he was going to start signing and the remembered he didn't know a word of the language. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked completely at a loss. 

Hearth rolled his eyes, and used another rather obvious sign. “write” he requested. The stranger caught onto that one quicker, and jumped up to retrieve something to write on. Soon enough, Hearth had a pencil and a sketchbook in his hand. 

 

He started writing. 

 

    1. _I can lip read, so please just talk to me like you normally would._



 

  * __Before you ask, I’m here because I ran away from home. I definitely can’t go back. I showed up here randomly using rune magic__


  * _Thank you for helping me, don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can_


  * _Can you help me out of here?_



 

 

Hearth didn’t know if he had the strength to stand on his own yet, but he knew this sun bed was uncomfortable as helheim and he couldn’t stand it a whole lot longer. He passed the sketchbook to the stranger, who read it over quickly before holding out his hand to help Hearth up and leading him to the couch. The physical contact from someone Hearth had just met was rather uncomfortable, but it was a necessary evil.

 

The stranger waited until they were both seated to begin talking, “You don’t really have to leave anytime soon. I have a spare room here, and i live alone… i’m just saying, you can stay as long as you need, or want, or… hey, what’s your name?”

 

_ Hearthstone. Call me Hearth. _

 

The stranger nodded, “My name is Blitzen. Blitz for short”

 

_ I can't ask all that of you _

 

Blitz shook his head, “I can't ask you to leave in the state you're in. At least wait until you're healthy enough to jump to somewhere with sunlight”

 

Hearth debated the idea in his head,formulating a plan. 

 

_ Ok _

 

Blitz paused for a moment. “I, um… I

I made dinner. You've been out for a day and a half, you're probably hungry. You want some?”

 

Hearth allowed it. Conversation was tense, with Blitz doing most of the talking and Hearth doing least of the attention paying. 

 

From what little Hearth did pay attention to, he found out that Blitz was a svartalf, and that he was currently in nidavellir. 

 

Blitz nodded to the sketchbook still in front of Hearth, almost untouched since dinner started. 

 

“That whole writing everything thing must get annoying,” he noted

 

_ You have no idea _

 

“Maybe I'll learn some asl, so it's not as much of a pain?”

 

Hearth snorted,  _ useless. I won't be here long.  _

 

“A second language is always good to have,” blitz shrugged 

 

Hearth paused,thinking a moment before he wrote,  _ just the alphabet.  _ He told himself it was just to shut this guy up

 

After dinner, Hearth spent a few hours running through the alphabet with Blitz. They turned a few sketchbook page into flashcards, and Hearth felt a bit bad about wasting them, but something told him Blitz had plenty more. Blitz had trouble with a few letters, but by the end of the night he seemed to have it down. A few more days, he'd be nearly perfect. They practiced until Blitz could no longer keep his eyes open, and informed Hearth that he had school in the morning. 

 

Hearth would never be grateful for how his father treated him, but he did develop a useful skill for sneaking around. About an hour after Blitz had gone to bed, Hearth had gathered his things. He found the pencil and sketchbook, and wrote one last note:

 

_ I can't thank you enough for the help you've given. I will always be grateful for this. But I can't stay here. I can't stay anywhere right now. You have to understand, when I said I ran away, I meant it- and I can't stop running now. I can't put myself in someone else's care at this point in my life. Nothing against you.  _

 

__ _ one last thank you,  _

__ __ _ Hearthstone  _

 

He sat the note on the table and made a final run around to be sure he had all he needed- he took the liberty of grabbing leftovers from dinner. 

 

As he placed a hand on the doorknob, he was stopped by a flickering light. 

 

He smacked his hand to his for head as he spun around to see Blitz reading the note. 

 

Blitz looked up, “look,” he said, “I can't, won't, and shouldn't force you to stay, we both know that. Leave if you feel you have to. But you should know that whatever you're running from, whoever you're running from, they can't get you here. You're safe here. And even if you leave, the tanning bed will always be here, and the key is under the mat, okay?”

 

Hearth used one last sign he had taught Blitz that night, “thank you,” before stepping out the front door. 


	3. Chapter 3

Hearth had figured out pretty quick that he attracted far too much attention just walking down the street, and elf strolling about nidavellir. He spends most of his time hiding out in less populated areas just outside of town, biding his time until he's strong enough to make another jump. There's no way to be sure there will be another Blitzen at the other end of that, and Hearth wasn't sure he could survive another jump in the state he's in without help. So an elf in a cave he would stay.

 

Hearth found himself thinking about Blitzen more and more. He had to try harder every day to convince himself not to go back to that apartment building.

 

“People aren't nice unless they want something” he'd tell himself. But he couldn't fully make himself believe that about Blitz. His kindness seemed so sincere.

 

“It was an empty promise, you'd be imposing” but there was that sincerity again, Blitz seemed to be surrounded by it. Nothing in Blitz's little speech felt faked.

 

“You can't rely on someone again”

 

That one… That one kept him away. He couldn't do that to himself, he couldn't throw away his first chance at independence after, what, a week? Absolutely not. The idea of being attached to another person again, dependant on them… It was horrifying.

 

And yet, as Hearth sat against a natural stone column, barely surviving on moss that was almost, but not quite, like sunlight and a frankly pitiful little fire, on vegetation he didn't really recognize but seemed safe to eat, going back to that apartment was looking like a nicer and nicer idea. Well, it was a good thing he was used to small meals and not eating.

  


The thing about being alone is there's too much time to think. Hearth traced words and pictures in the soft layer of dirt on the ground to dull stop his buzzing brain, meaningless lines symbols that nearly always ended up becoming runes and imagined conversations.

 

“I’m sorry” he'd write, imagining all the people he'd say it to.

 

Inge, for leaving her.

 

Blitzen, for taking his kindness for granted.

 

His brother.

 

He brushed away the words and began quizzing himself on runes again, but it was useless- he knew them so well already it wasn't as though he was learning much.

 

“Hey, are you okay?” he traced, repeating the words from his rib into the ground.

 

He found himself imagining Blitz saying it, in another world- His lips forming the words as he held out a hand. Maybe Hearth would have tripped, or something, and Blitz might be the first stranger to lend a hand. Blitz would make a nice soulmate, he thought. At least then he'd have an excuse to stay.

 

The thought that his soulmate might be half as good a person as Blitz, someone selfless and kind enough to help a stranger on death’s door, gave him some semblance of comfort.

 

He lays back into the dirt, scalding himself for getting so hung up on a random stranger.

 

He felt his stomach turn, begging for food.

  


Blitzen sat on his couch, sort of watching TV but not really paying attention. His mind was wandering. He was thinking about school, about design ideas, about what he should make for dinner, about that Hearth kid that showed up two weeks ago and then just _disappeared like some kind of fucking cryptid I mean where is that kid anyway??_

 

He stood up, stretching. He really should stop thinking about that guy. He wasn't coming back. If he was, he'd be here already. He couldn't help but worry, though. It certainly wasn't safe for him here. And he couldn't handle another spell in his condition-

 

A spell! _A spell!_ Not only was this guy an elf, he was a _fucking wizard!_ Because that's a normal hobby people have, apparently! A week and a half, and it was still weird. Too weird.

 

The door swung open, scaring the shit out of Blitzen. Once he'd steadied himself enough to stop screaming, he's even more frightened by the sight of Hearth's condition. Speak of the devil, and the devil shall show up on your doorstep half dead for the second time in a fortnight.

 

He's noticeably thinner than the last time Blitz saw him, which Blitz honestly didn't think was possible. He's wearing the same dark sweater and slightly-too-short jeans that Blitz last saw him in, but they're all ripped up and barely hanging on his frame. His eyes are wide, with hunger and begging, even if he is trying to hide it. He looks like he's about to pass out.

 

Blitz rushes over to him, but he waves him off, and makes his way over to the couch on his own.

 

Blitz thinks for a moment, trying to remember-

“food?” Blitz signs

 

Hearth nods, slightly surprised by Blitz's, albeit rudimentary, use of asl.

 

Blitz comes back a moment later with a lunch meat sandwich and the same sketchbook from before, and Hearth couldn't be more grateful. He looks so tired. His face is mostly blank, like he’s controlling his expression on purpose, but his eyes look almost… defeated. Blitz can’t help but feel bad for him.

 

They sat for a moment, Hearth eating, and Blitz trying to decide if he should ask how Hearth's week had gone.

 

Finally, after Hearth had finished, Blitz spoke.

 

“Are… you staying for real this time?”

 

Hearth snorts, _for a little while, yes. I don’t want to impose._

 

“I told you, it’s no trouble- in fact, I could use the company,” Blitz is struck with the oddity of discussing a life or death situation like it was on par with asking for an extra blanket or a cup of sugar. He didn’t mention that he was worried sick about that kid the entire time he was gone. He felt that might be a bit weird.

 

_I just didn’t have much choice_

 

“Hey, I’m glad you came back, okay? I’m glad you’re safe,” he paused, “Safe now, at least. What happened out there? Where were you? If you don’t mind-” Blitz doesn’t want to be rude, but frankly he was curious.

 

It took a little while, but eventually hearth relayed everything. The moss, the little camp he’d made, the fall he took on the third day that lost his bag and tore his clothes. He explained that he was planning on leaving once he was strong enough (Blitz’s face fell when he read that. he didn’t try to hide it, either) but that there was no way he could have survived another week out there.

 

“Where are you planning on going?” Blitz asks

 

_Midgard maybe?_

 

“With the humans?” Blitz is surprised, he hadn’t heard of travel to midgard in centuries. Then again, he hadn’t heard of travel from alfheim in centuries either. He vaguely wondered how Hearth had gotten ahold of runestones and figured out how to use such powerful magic.

 

_With the humans! Knights, castles, like the old stories. Doesn’t it seem nice?_

 

Hearths expression becomes wistful, dreamlike, Blitz could tell he really wanted this. He couldn’t really see the appeal, “Yeah, if that’s your thing. I guess it is, magic and all..."

 

Hearth nodded, letting the conversation fall again.

 

“If you want,” Blitz suggests, “I could fix up your clothes- at least until we get you new ones,”

 

_Really? I can’t ask you to do that…_

 

“You’re not asking! I’m offering! Here, actually, do you know your measurements?”

 

Hearth pauses, _my what?_

 

“Um...what’s your shirt and pants sizes?”

 

Hearth tells him.

 

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” Blitz makes his way to his room in search of something Hearth can wear for a little while. He comes back with a t shirt and pajama pants that he honestly can’t remember ever wearing.

 

He hands them to Hearth, “These aren’t going to fit, because they’re mine, but you can wear them while I’m fixing yours. Later I can make you new clothes because I… don’t think you’ll be able to find a whole lot to wear down here…”

 

Hearth looks down at the clothes in his hands, then backup at Blitz.

 

“Right, there’s a bathroom down the hall to change in,”

 

A moment later, Hearth comes back with a too-small shirt far-too-short-but-too-wide pants that he has to hold up by the waistband. He actually takes the time to fingerspell “I h-a-t-e t-h-i-s”

 

Blitz can’t help but chuckle as he grabs Hearths clothes from him. There’s a workroom in the back that used to be his dad’s, and still has most of his dad’s stuff in it. It also hold Blitz’s sewing supplies. Hearth runs to grab his sketchbook, and then, as Blitz is walking into the workroom, Hearth taps on his shoulder.

 

_Can I watch?_

 

“Watch me sew?”

 

Heart nods.

 

“Well… yeah, go ahead, but I can’t promise it’ll be all that entertaining,” Blitz nods. He’s a little confused, but mostly he thinks it’s kinda nice that someone is showing interest in his work.

 

Blitz sits in front of his sewing machine and checks to see what thread is already in there. Luckily, it’s already the right color.

 

Hearth doesn’t sit down right away. He wanders the room for a second, inspecting the fabric on the walls. He writes something down, and then goes back over to Blitz, who hasn’t started yet.

 

_Where’d you get all this fabric?_

 

“Oh! I’ve been building up a collection for a few years now, plus my mom- um, yeah, I bought most of it over the past few years,”

 

Hearth got the hint that Blitz’s mom wasn’t a topic that he should ask about.

 

Hearth points to the pages of sketches on the desk, “You d-e-s-i-g-n?”

 

Blitz’s face lights up, “Yeah! It's... sewing is more of a hobby right now I guess. Minor repairs and mending for some folks in the building brings in some extra income. But I do design, too! I have a portfolio- I'm going to school for it after I graduate!"

 

_You’re still in school?_

 

“Well, I’m sixteen,” Blitz paused, suddenly looking a little cautious, “How old are you, by the way?”

 

_17_

 

Blitz looks relieved, “Hey, I’d love to talk about this more,” Hearth got the sense that he really would, “But I can’t really read and sew, so I’m going to have to cut this conversation short,”

 

Hearth nods,  _can I look later your designs?_

 

Blitz gives an enthusiastic nod, “Go ahead!”

 

While Blitz mends, Hearth sits criss cross on the floor looking through his sketchbook. Fashion had never really been his thing, but he had to admit, the designs were incredible. This guy was a genius.


	4. Chapter 4

 

A little while later, Hearth’s clothes were like new- or as close to ¨like new” as one could get after being peppered with holes and worn for a week and a half. They were clean and and wearable, anyway.

 

Blitz frowned, ¨This isn't going to work,¨

 

Hearth raises a brow, looking down at his clothes and then back at Blitz, who seems to be already working something out in his head.

 

¨You can't just own one set of pants and one shirt,”We need to get you more clothes,¨

 

Hearth scrambles for the sketchbook lying on the table, _absolutely not, I will not ask you for that_

 

¨I already told you, you aren´t asking, I'm offering! Listen, this isn't me being a clotheshorse, this is you needing more than just one outfit. If you’re going to be staying here you’ve already got basic needs covered, right? Food, shelter, etcetera. Having at least a change of clean clothes is another thing you _need_. Also, I did my best but I can't guarantee those won't fall to shit again by the end of the month,¨

 

Hearth pauses, considering. Blitz was right that he would need more than just the clothes on his back if he was going to stay for any amount of time. He still didn’t much like the thought of Blitz spending many more time or money on him, the idea of it was practically gut wrenching.

 

From the look on the dwarf’s face, however, there wasn’t much of an argument to be made. Hearth wasn’t going to get his way.

 

_“OK”_

 

Blitz smiles, “Terrific! I need to go shopping soon anyway, so we can just go then. I was thinking about just making you clothes, but it’d be easier to buy you what you need here and then tailor them as needed,” he pauses, gesturing to Hearth’s entire body, “I have a hard enough time finding my size, obviously we’re going to have some troubles with you,”

 

Hearth looks down at himself, then back up at blitz before writing, _what, you don’t think dwarf clothes would fit me?_

 

“There aren’t a whole lot of dwarfs that break six feet, no,” Blitz says, cracking a smile.

 

They’re at the store about a week later, nothing fancy, just an average superstore comparable to a human walmart.

 

“So it seems you’ve got a favorite color,” Blitz noted the cart, which seemed to be slowly transforming into a black hole, or at least aspiring to the aesthetic of one.

 

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Hearth was careful to use signs Blitz knew, and he still had the sketchbook sitting in the cart, but even after just a week of properly learning, Blitz was catching on very well. He was still speaking out loud most of the time, however, in the interest of saving time.

 

“Is the sarcasm just a constant thing with you?” Blitz was smiling as he spoke, though. He had to admit, he enjoyed Hearth’s sense of humor.

 

Hearth paused for a moment, as if contemplating the question, before signing. “Yes,”

 

Blitz’s response was cut short by Hearth holding up a leather jacket with a questioning expression.

 

“Well, would you look at that, it’s your size,” Blitz mused, “It’d be a shame not to get it, honestly. Especially with how cold you are all the time,” he added with a smile.

 

As usual, Hearth kept his expressions rather tamed, but after just a week Blitz had already figured out that the soft smile as he said “Thank you,” was equivalent to jumping for joy.

 

Hearth sits again in Blitz’s workroom, they hadn’t gotten a lot of clothes- of course they were still on a rather tight budget- about a weeks worth. Enough that tailoring took up a fair amount of time, anyway.

 

 _How did you learn to sew?_ Hearth asks. He was finally able to comfortably wear his new clothes, complete with his new leather jacket.

 

“Oh, um, sort of out of necessity? Like I said, I’m… a bit taller that the average dwarf. There’s lots of other svartalfs, of course, but clothes in our sizes are still a bit harder to find. So I sort of learned how to make my own, you know? But I… guess I just fell in love with it,”

 

Hearth nodded, _makes sense,_ he wrote, _very impressive._

 

Blitz decides to keep quiet about the fact that he sort of had a natural talent for this kind of thing, thanks to his mom. He figured Hearth was going to find out sooner or later, of course he'd probably eventually have to introduce himself to someone in front of Hearth, but Blitz personally preferred later.

 

Instead, he crosses his arms, and looks over Hearth's outfit, “You need something… More,” he decides.

 

Hearth looks honestly surprised for a moment at the change of subject. Blitz scanned the room, rummaging around for a bit before pulling something out of a drawer and draping it over Hearth's shoulders. He steps back, and nods, “There we go, that'll balance out all the monochrome you have going on here. Makes quite the statement,”

 

Hearth inspects the red and white scarf now hanging around his neck, and feels an honest-to-god grin spread across his face.

  
  


Hearth is sitting on the couch. It had been about a month since he officially decided to stay, and life had become routine. Blitz is in the kitchen, looking for a snack, and Hearth is flipping through channels. When Blitz comes back, he moves something out of the way on the coffee table so that he can set a bowl of chips down.

Hearth picks up the thing he moved, curious as to what it is. It’s a book on ASL. he holds it up to Blitz with a questioning expression.

 

“Oh, yeah! I got that from the library. I figured I can’t ask you to teach me an entire language all on your own. It's better to take it into my own hands a little, you know?”

 

The corners of Hearth’s mouth turn up just a tad, and he flips through the book for a second before setting it down to search for something to watch again.

  
  


Blitz sits at his sewing machine, not working, simply sitting at his desk in search of somewhere to be alone and think. He didn’t really have to be in here, it was the middle of the night and Hearth was fast asleep, but being in this room always helped him clear his mind.

 

Blitz was falling in love with his roomate.

 

There’s no getting around it. They’d been living together for, what, a month and a half now? Already the elf’s slight little smiles and sarcastic humor were ingraining themselves into his heart.  Blitz grabbed his upper arm, about where the first words his soulmate would say to him were stained into his skin. Dating outside of soulmates wasn’t unheard of, of course. But it was a deal breaker for a lot of people. Completely understandable, it was basically a guaranteed heartbreak. There’d always be another person who would be better than you. Blitz wondered if there were even soulmarks in alfheim. Most of the time you only had a soulmark if you had some connection to freya. Does having her brother as your patron count? Would hearth even know what a soulmark is? Imagine starting a relationship with that kind of disclaimer. “hey I really like you, but only until I meet another dude. Is that chill with you?”

 

Blitz pinched the bridge of his nose, “This is too much,” he whispered to himself. Why couldn’t he just live without a soulmark? Then he could just let himself _like_ somebody without having to deal with _all this_. Of course he’d fall for someone who wasn’t his soulmate. That was just his luck.

 

He was far too tired to think clearly about this right now.


	5. Chapter 5

That night, Blitz falls asleep at his desk. He wakes up to the sound of clattering coming from his kitchen that’s impossible to sleep through. He pauses only a moment to remove a slip of scratch paper that had become attached to his face before going to investigate.

 

Blitzen stands in the doorway to admire the sorry sight. His elf is holding a frying pan in one hand and a spatula in the other. He’s staring in dismay at the charred mass in the pan. While Blitz is watching, the smoke from the pan curls up to the smoke detector above the stove, which starts to scold Hearth without his knowledge.

 

Blitz shakes his head with a laugh and climbs up on the counter to turn off the alarm, scaring the shit out of Hearth, who hadn’t seen him up until now. The alarm is off, but the kitchen is still filled with smoke. Blitz coughed into his sleeve before signing with a chuckle, “What are you doing?!”

 

Hearth sets down the pan and spatula to reply, “I tried to make breakfast,” he says with a bashful smile. He scratches the back of his neck and gives a little shrug.

 

Blitz’s heart skips a beat, try as he might to ignore it. This whole situation was as undeniably adorable as it was bizarre. Was that egg in Hearth’s hair?

 

Blitz realizes he is still sitting on the counter and hops down, “Have you never cooked eggs before?” 

 

the guess that eggs were even the intended end goal is honestly a shot in the dark. There were eggshells on the counter, and, yes that was yolk in his hair, but whatever was in the pan was completely unrecognizable as any form of food. 

 

Hearth shrugged, “I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen,” he explained. 

 

Blitz feels a pang of pity, not to mention shame for bringing it up, and decides against pursuing the topic further. Hearth keeps dropping these hints about his life, but Blitz knew he wasn’t ready to really talk about it. He didn’t know if he ever would be. And that was okay.

 

“Here, let me help,” the smoke is clearing up now. Blitz opens the fridge and glances about, looking for something he knows how to make. He closes the fridge, and turns back to hearth. 

 

“On second thought, do you want to go out for breakfast?” Blitz can’t think of anything in the apartment he could make much better than Hearth can. As it turned out, neither of them was really the cooking type.

 

Hearth nods, and and soon they were both headed out the door, on their way to a diner down the road. 

 

They’re sitting in a booth opposite each other, talking over their meal. One upside of ASL, Blitz had realized, is that it was far easier to talk with your mouth full. Blitz is describing some project he’s working on for school, having to make something with a dual purpose, and how he’s been thinking about remaking Hearth’s sun bed to double as a coffee table. It’d be a pretty big task, and certainly would imply some form of permanence to Hearth’s stay, yet for the first time since they met Hearth didn’t fight that idea. In fact, he seems honestly touched that Blitz would do that, and impressed at the idea.

 

“Now I’m not sure I’ll be able to pull this off,” Blitz notes, desperately not wanting to get Hearth’s hopes up. As far as Bliz was concerned, completing the sun bed in the first place was a stroke of luck and nothing more. Hearth had other opinions.

 

He shakes his head, “You have more talent than you think,” he insists.

 

Blitz decided to change the subject, “I noticed some books about runes at the library,” he says, “I don’t know if they’ll be much help to you, but I can check them out if you want,” he had actually gone looking for them with Hearth in mind, but he decides not to point that out.

 

Hearth nearly chokes on his pancakes in surprise, “Really?” 

 

“Sure! We can go after breakfast, if you want,” Blitz was rather fond of libraries, they are peaceful and quiet and not to mention a terrific help with studying, “We can even get you a card- or you can use mine, if you want,”

 

There was a dusting a green across Hearth’s ears, he seemed almost ashamed of his enthusiasm.

 

Still, he couldn’t turn down the offer. He had never been to a library before, most of the books he had gotten as a kid were snuck to him by Inge’s mother, and he didn’t really get to chose them. Being able to study in peace, without fear of getting caught and with a choice as to what he learned? It certainly sounded nice. 

 

And it certainly was. Blitz lead Hearth to the nonfiction section, where a collection of books about magic and runes sits nestled on the history shelf Hearth read while Blitz looked around, and eventually began chatting with one of the librarians. In the very back of one book, Hearth came across a section on soulmarks. He’d never really thought about them much back in alfheim, aside from his own. They were just a fact of life. But according to this book, they were quite common in svartalfs, seeing as they had greater connection to Freya than most. Hearth glances up at Blitz from across the room, and for the first time, he realizes something. He doesn’t actually know what the first words Blitzen said to him were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the shorter chapter this week!   
> we're nearing the end! which brings me to a question: i've been thinking about turning this into a series and continuing on the story after they've met magnus but before he dies. what do y'all think? would you be interested in that?


	6. Chapter 6

Hearth was pacing the floor of the living room, trying to think. He always thought better when he was walking. 

 

He knew Blitz said  _ something  _ when he first found Hearth. There was a moment of consciousness in his memory when the dwarf’s face hovered over him with an expression like he was solving a particularly difficult math problem. He could see, in his mind, Blitz speaking, but he couldn't, for the life of him, remember what he'd said. 

 

But, “hey, are you okay?” seems a likely candidate for the situation. 

 

He thought again. What were the first words he'd said to Blitz? That he was deaf? No, that was afterward, after Blitz was already confused- he could remember the look on his face. But the memories were foggy, he had been injured and barely conscious at the time. He thought harder. It was a question… something like… That’s it! He’d asked, “Where am I”. 

 

Now he remembered what his first words to Blitz were, that’s one problem down. Now for Blitz’s to him...

 

How do you even bring that up? What if he's wrong? He'd sound like a fool. 

 

But he wanted  _ so badly  _ to be right. It had always been a hypothetical. Hearth never really let himself think he had a chance with Blitzen, just maybe, hopefully, someone like him. Blitzen Was… everything. He was smart- in fact he was brilliant! And kind, the kindest person Hearth had ever met. Creative and witty and ambitious and absolutely  _ gorgeous.  _ And he genuinely cared about Hearth. 

 

Maybe he'd say something about the book. That was it. Mention the chapter, mention soulmarks, see how Blitz responds. He'd checked out the book, from the library that afternoon, it was a reasonable conversation topic, right? 

 

But what if he was wrong. Would Blitz be upset that Hearth thought about him that way? You aren't supposed to hit on your _roommate._ Would he be breaking Blitz’s trust? Would they still be able to be friends if Blitz knew how Hearth felt and didn’t feel the same? Could Hearth handle that rejection? His pulse started to elevate, and the floor was feeling less steady by the second. Oh no. 

 

He'd felt the attack coming all day, the acidic feeling in his chest, the tension pulling on every thought, It's a wonder it took this long, really. Hearth sank down to the floor and used what little rationality he had left to cover his mouth. He'd discovered a long time ago that these attacks make far to much noise in a silent house, his father was sure to make that clear. 

 

His pulse kept rising, and his breathing became ragged. The air felt cold and sharp in his lungs, gone far too fast to do him any good. The room was spinning now, and he had started rocking. His breathing got faster and faster and more and more irregular. He couldn't think clearly, he couldn't think at all, he couldn't register anything but the biting air in his throat. It grated like sandpaper. His head was so light it was a wonder he didn’t pass out. There wasn’t even enough space in his head for circling thoughts anymore. Just the feeling of the attack. 

 

And then it was over. As suddenly as it had started, hearth found himself completely clear headed in armadillo position on the floor. His hand stung. Further inspection showed he'd bitten down on it hard enough to break skin, and a few lime green beads were showing themselves in the wound. 

 

That was the first time he'd had an attack since he'd met Blitzen, which in itself was a feat- previously they had happened once a week, at least. They'd happened as long as Hearthstone could remember, though. Anytime he got too stressed or emotional. Most of the time he could control it in public long enough to find a private place, but they still brought him to his knees every time. Inge was the one who’d started calling them attacks, she said she got them too. He had no idea what they actually were. 

 

Hearthstone stood up, “Stupid. Stupid!” he scolded himself, there's no use getting all worked up over nothing. Worst case scenario, Blitz gets a little weirded out, but it's not like he'll throw you on the street-

 

Hearth's breathing started to pick up again, and he decided to drop that train of thought. It was time for bed, anyway. 

  
  
  


“You look tired,” Blitz noted when he walked into the living room the next morning. Hearth was already awake, sitting on the couch reading. 

 

He didn't respond. Of course not, he hadn't seen Blitz. 

 

Blitz tapped on his shoulder to get his attention, causing Hearth to jump about four feet in the air. 

 

Blitz stepped back, “want some cereal?” he offered, figuring it'd be rude not to. 

 

Hearth shook his head, he usually didn't eat breakfast. Yesterday was an odd occurrence, for sure. 

 

There was something off in his face, Blitz saw now that he was looking up. He was certainly tired, yes, but he looked… nervous. Hearth never looked nervous. He decided his breakfast could wait, and sat down on the couch next to him. 

 

“Trouble sleeping?” he asked. 

 

Hearth shifted his head side to side in a “Kinda” gesture. He was still holding the book in his lap, so he wasn’t signing.

“Everything okay?”Blitz asked.

 

Hearth marked the page in his book and sat it down so he could sign, “I’ve been reading about alf seidr,” he said

 

“And it’s bothering you?”

 

Hearth raised a brow, “What? No, it’s just interesting,” evidently Hearth didn’t know he was visibly nervous. That, or he wasn’t willing to admit it, “there’s a page about svartalfs,” 

 

“Really? What’s it say?”

 

“Svartalfs are more likely than other dwarves to have soulmarks,” Hearth flipped to the page he was talking about to prove the point.

 

Blitz blinked, then scanned over the page, “Well yeah, they are,” he said, “It’s a Freya thing… do they have soulmarks in alfheim?” there it was. Blitz couldn’t believe Hearth was the one to bring it up. He had to be thinking the same thing, right? He had to be hoping they were soulmates? Or maybe he was just curious about the magic behind it.

 

Hearth nodded, “Most people have them,” he said.

 

“I have one,” Blitz said. Now or never, there wasn’t going to be a better time to bring this up, “on my arm,” he was wearing a grey button up, it was easy enough to roll up to expose the tattoo, “I usually hide it, but it’s there,”

 

Hearth’s eyes widened as he read the words on Blitz’s arm, and he… giggled. Blitz didn’t think he’d ever heard Hearth giggle before. It only lasted a second, but it made Blitz’s heart stop.

 

“What’s so funny?” 

 

“Nothing!” Hearth insisted, “Nothing is funny,” he paused, his hands twitching like his words were buffering, “I… said that to you, that’s… me”

 

And Blitz thought his heart had stopped before. He tried to respond, but he’d forgotten how to talk. His  _ soulmate  _ had been living in his house for  _ over a month  _ and he was too nervous to even find out! Almost nobody is lucky enough to meet their soulmate as a teenager and he couldn’t even do  _ that  _ right.

 

Hearth was waiting for him to respond, wide eyed and… hopeful. Another expression he didn’t think he’d ever seen Hearth wearing.

 

“The first thing I said to you was ‘are you okay?’” Blitz said.

Hearth’s hands went to his own ribs for a second, almost unconsciously, before he said, “We’re soulmates,” simply and factually. But he was grinning, grinning like when he’d first gotten the scarf that was currently laying on the coffee table because it never left his side. And Blitz found himself thinking that he couldn’t wait to see that grin again and again and again no matter how rare it was because it’s rarity was what made it incredible and now he knew he had all the time in the world.

 

“You have a tattoo,”

 

“On my chest,” He said, which explains why Blitz had never seen it. Now he kind of couldn’t wait to see it. Now Blitz was giggling, in that manic way people do when they don’t know how else to express what they’re feeling, “I can’t believe it took us  _ this long _ ” he said, shaking his head.

 

“A little ridiculous,” Hearth agreed, “but I forgive you,”

 

Blitz faltered for a second, “Wha- oh you stupid elf!” he shoved Hearth’s shoulder playfully.

 

“ _ Your _ stupid elf,” Hearth corrected him. That was flirting. Hearth was flirting. That was going to be normal now too. Blitz liked that idea quite a lot. 

 

“My stupid elf,” Blitz agreed with a smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the late update, my life has just been really busy lately! but here's chapter 6!  
> There's going to be an epilogue after this, so we haven't quite reached the end yet!


End file.
